Paradise
by Tygerwulfe
Summary: Post An Invisible Thread. Matt Parkman knows better than anyone the limits of a mind. No person can be truly removed from within their own mind. So if he couldn't or wouldn't, for moral reasons completely remove Sylar, what did he do to him?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Paradise

**Author:** Tygerwolfe

**Summary:** Post _An Invisible Thread_, the Heroes S3 finale. Matt knows better than anyone the limits of a mind. No person can be truly removed from within their own mind. So if he couldn't remove Sylar, what did he do to him?  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Heroes in any way, shape, or form. Please don't sue.

**Author's Note:** I began writing this story as a way of fighting insomnia, and it wound up contributing to the insomnia as I wrote it over and over. I intended this to be a one shot, but when the first scene went on for three pages, I realized it needs to be chaptered. I know how the entire story goes, so it WILL be finished. Just, as with most of my fics, it will take time. And, if you're reading this on , it IS finished. I make a point not to post anything to without having finished it first after the fiasco with Out Of Time: Pleistocene Panic not being completed for five years.

**CHAPTER 1**

Gabriel jerked awake, panting, one hand clutching at his chest. The blood, the bodies, his father – a dream. It was all a horrific nightmare. He exhaled quietly and groped at the bedside table for his glasses. A small arm snaked it's way around his bare torso, hand resting on his stomach and rubbing lightly. Gabriel relaxed and leaned back against his wife.

"Nightmare?" Elle asked, her cheek snuggled sleepily against his back. They'd been married for almost two years at this point, and it was a fairly idylic marriage. Her slightly rounded stomach pressed up against his back – she was almost six months along, and while they'd been careful to make sure they didn't know what it was going to be, Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion that it would be a baby boy.

"Yeah..." He shook his head. "It was horrible. It was as if we hadn't lost our powers." He turned over and slipped his arms around his wife, holding her tight against his chest. "I killed you," he whispered, a sick sound in his voice.

Elle cuddled her head up under his chin. "You wouldn't do that, even if you still had your powers," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. "I know you, Gabriel."

Gabriel didn't say anything – the dream felt so incredibly real. Killing her, gaining the lie detector power – he could replay it all in his head as clearly as anything that **had** happened in the last two years. It was one of the most realistic nightmares he'd ever had, and he'd had a hell of a lot of nightmares since the end of his life as Sylar. But she was right - he wouldn't do that. He loved her, even when he had been Sylar. She was his Angel... with or without the broken watch. His arms tightened around his wife. She was right, of course. It was only a nightmare. "Sometimes your faith in me scares me a little, Elle."

She smiled, though he couldn't see it from where she was nuzzled into his throat. "Why? Because you don't have it in yourself?"

"Something like that."

Elle smiled again and kissed her husband's chin lovingly, then wriggled out of his arms. "Come on. Big day today. I have to finish cooking."

Gabriel smiled again, remembering – today was Thanksgiving. The first time the Grays/Petrellis (sometimes he still honestly couldn't decide what his last name should be) would be hosting it in their new house. He got up after his wife. "That's right. We've got a bird to cook."

"**I** have a bird to cook. YOU have to keep me company so I don't freak out." She smirked. "This is the first time I've ever done a big family meal in my life, and I'm not going to pretend that I'm not scared." She wrinkled her nose at him as she dressed. "Why couldn't you be like a normal man and only come with ONE mother-in-law?"

Gabriel laughed, dressing in some comfortable pants and a blue t-shirt. He'd get dressed up before their guests started arriving. "It isn't like I picked this, you know."

"Oh, like you don't love it. Having two moms who dote on you over everything you do?" She stuck her tongue out at him, then made her way out of the bedroom, one hand on her slightly bulging tummy.

Gabriel smiled. It was only a nightmare, after all. And they would have a lot of company today. The Petrellis, his biological family, were coming over. His biological mother, Angela, and his brothers, Nathan and Peter. You'd never know that they'd started out actually knowing each other as complete and total enemies – one might even say arch enemies – now Gabriel looked forward to his brothers presences almost as much as his two moms. That's right – two moms. Gabriel Gray was actually Gabriel Petrelli by birth. But his adopted mother, Virginia Gray, was very much still part of the family, and was another guest to dinner tonight. Both moms doted on their son, but Virginia was a special case – she loved Gabriel as her ONLY son, and occasionally got into arguments with Angela that Gabriel found wholly embarassing. And loved every minute of. So yes, he had to get up.

Since the day of that second eclipse, when all of their powers had suddenly stopped working just as suddenly as they'd begun with a previous eclipse (what ever happened to those things being seriously rare?), it was as if all of them had snapped out of a dream, or something. They really were one big family – right down to the Bennetts, related through Claire being Nathan's biological daughter. Claire and Noah were also coming for dinner today, so the whole family, biological and adopted, would be in one place.

Which was why Elle was so nervous. Last year, Thanksgiving had been at the Petrelli home. But earlier this year, at Angela's birthday party, Elle had blurted out that she thought it would be great if everyone would come over to their place for a big family meal. Before Gabriel had even had a chance to stop her and warn her how stressed she was going to get, the plans had been made. And he had to hand it to his wife – she was handling it very well, for someone who'd never done this before.

***CRASH!***

Or not.

"Elle! Elle, are you alright?" Gabriel shouted, running out of their bedroom and into the kitchen to find Elle standing over the turkey, which was on the floor, looking for all the world as if it had just been dropped out of the sky.

Elle, for her part, looked as if she was about to cry. "It slipped... I was trying to wash it."

Gabriel quickly went to his wife, kissed her, then bent over and picked up the turkey, putting it in the sink. "It's ok. We'll just wash it again. See? It's-" He cut himself off, looking at the turkey in the sink... if they're drained of blood, then where was all that blood coming from that was draining down the sink?

"Gabriel?"

He jumped and looked at Elle, then back at the sink... the non-bloody sink, with the bird sitting in it as if it intended to take a bath. "Uh... Sorry... Sorry, baby."

Elle looked at him worriedly and hugged him. "Sweetie, if you're still that tired, you should go back to bed. I can take care of it here, now." She blinked up at him. "You were just staring at the sink. You stopped in mid sentence."

Gabriel shook his head and hugged his wife in return. "Yeah... I know. I thought I saw something. It's alright." He kissed her, slowly and lovingly. "I'll let you get back to work."

Elle smiled. "Turn the parade on, will you? And put the TV where I can see it?"

Gabriel smiled – Elle loved parades. She loved everything that made their life normal and average. And he couldn't blame her. His obsession with being special was long gone, and he was more than content to be normal – especially when being normal made him feel more special than being "special" ever had. "I'm on it, babe."

He walked into the living room, then returned, pushing the smaller of the two TVs, the one with the stand that was on wheels, into the doorway between the living and dining rooms. He left it where Elle could see it from the kitchen., turned it on and made sure the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade was on, then headed back into the living room. The guests would be arriving soon.

As Gabriel passed the sewing kit that had a prominent place in the living room, he glanced down at it. It was open, and a pair of scissors were sticking out at an odd angle. He reached down, picked them up, and then froze. The scissors were covered in blood, as if they'd been embedded in someone's chest. He dropped the instrument and jumped back from it as if stung by a bee, staring at it... But the moment his eyes found it again, it was a perfectly normal pair of silver sewing scissors, now lying on the floor.

"Gabriel? Are you alright? What fell?"

"Nothing. I just dropped the scissors..." He trailed off as he picked the sewing impliment up again and considered it carefully. This nightmare was taking a long time to wear off. Then again, with all the things he'd done, he was lucky that he didn't have more days like this. He replaced the scissors in the sewing kit, closed the lid, then walked over and sat down on the couch, clicking on the big screen TV. Bleh. Football. Football is the only sport ever on, on Thanksgiving. Why was he even surprised? He settled back, absently listening for Elle needing any help, or for the doorbell to ring. The guests should be arriving, soon.


	2. Chapter 2

_For disclaimer and summary, see first chapter._

_Posted this chap a day early due to overwhelming response! Enjoy! (EDITED: Corrected the "patrelli/Petrelli" typo in all chapters. Will not happen again, in any future chapters.)_

**CHAPTER 2**

Gabriel jumped – when had he fallen asleep? The doorbell rang again, the same sound that had startled him out of his football-induced sleep.

"Gabriel, please get that?! My hands are covered in turkey!"

"I've got it!" He got up, quickly, so quick he almost tripped over the scissors that were on the – didn't he put those away? No time to fix it now. He went to the door and smiled when his mom, Virginia Gray, was standing in the doorway. "Mom! You made it!"

"Of course I did, dear."She smiled and hugged her son. She was so incredibly proud of him – he'd taken a bad situation and created something wonderful out of it. She didn't blame him for anything he'd done when he had called himself "Sylar." That was, after all, a person created by the Hunger. He'd explained it to her. She'd forgive him anything, of course, though. He was her son, even though not by birth.

Gabriel inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent that was so specific to his mom – something as familiar to him as an old teddy bear or a familiar childhood movie. She could always make him feel ok, and that everything was alright. This new life wouldn't be perfect if she wasn't in it. And it really was perfect. Sometimes almost too perfect. "Come on in, mom. Did you have a nice trip?"

Virginia laughed softly. "Planes don't really agree with me, Gabriel. You know that. I suppose it was as nice as possible." She wagged a finger at him, following him into the living room and watching him pick up a pair of scissors and put them in the sewing basket. "You must be more careful about leaving sharp things out like that, Gabriel. What with the pitter patter of little feet not too far down the road!" She smiled. She loved the idea of being a grandmother, just the thought of it made her eyes light up.

Gabriel smiled. "I know." He looked down at the sewing kit again – the lid was closed, the scissors safely put away... And now he was CERTAIN that they were put away. If they were out again later, he'd know for sure that something strange was going on.

Virginia was heading for the kitchen. "Elle, dear, do you need a bit of help?"

"No! No... No, mom. Really. I'm ok.. OW!"

"Elle!" Gabriel went around the back way, entering the kitchen through the dining room instead of from the living room. "Sweetie, are you alright?"

Elle had a sour look on her face and had the tip of her index finger in her mouth. "I'm fine," she mumbled around the digit. "Knife slipped."

Virginia made a soft sound. "Oh, dear! Where is your first aid kit, Gabriel? You're a monster!"

Gabriel started to respond with the location of the first aid kit, then froze and stared at his mother. "What did you say?"

Virginia gave him an exasperated expression. "Where is your first aid kit?"

Gabriel blinked at her for a moment, then quickly turned and grabbed the kit out from under the sink. "Here, mom." He put it on the counter and opened it while Virginia guided Elle over to the sink and helped her wash the cut. It was deep, but not deep enough to be dangerous or need stitches. As he got out the bandages, he couldn't help furrowing his brow in thought. Why would he hear his mom suddenly call him a monster? He didn't have anything to do with Elle's cut, and hesitating in finding the first aid kit certainly wasn't a reason to call a person a monster. Not to mention the tone that had been in her voice when she SAID it – as if he was something disgusting and horrible that she couldn't bear to lay eyes on – it sent chills up his spine. Yet she obviously didn't _actually _say it. Elle hadn't reacted, and she was so close there was no way she wouldn't have heard it. So why was his subconscious pulling these kinds of disturbing imagry and sounds today? Thanksgiving, of all days!

As he helped his mom convince Elle to sit down and rest for a little while, and to let Virginia deal with cutting up the veggies (and further convincing Elle that accepting help didn't count as having not MADE the Thanksgiving dinner), he decided that his mind was doing something to prompt him to take the holiday a little more seriously. _Alright_, he thought to himself as he followed his mother back into the kitchen to help her cook, after putting the parade on the living room TV for Elle. _What am I really thankful for?_

It was actually a pretty straight-forward answer, despite the question's confusing nature. He was thankful for every aspect of his life. He was thankful for his wife, their incredible relationship against all odds was the thing of romance novels. As Sylar, he'd killed her father – and she had been the reason he'd BECOME Sylar, so it eventually came full circle. But he had fallen in love with her before he realized that she was working for someone who was trying to make him a monster, and she with him – she'd since told him that she hated herself over what she'd done to him. She had thought it would've been better if she'd just let him hang himself and be done with it. But he was certain they both preferred the situation the way it had ended up.

He was thankful for his mother – the woman who'd raised him, loved him, nurtured him to become the man that he became... Before he became the monster. And now, after. She'd even forgiven him for that day when he'd... when he'd... he couldn't quite remember what it was that he'd done, but it had been horrible, it had been to his mother. And the important thing was that she forgave him.

He was thankful for his extended family, the Petrellis and the Bennets.. Angela was a second mom to him, and though she had come into the game late, having let him go when they believed he didn't have an ability, and therefore were trying to keep him safe, he loved her almost as much as Virginia. And Nathan and Peter – if he'd known this was what it was like to have brothers, he would've begged Virginia Gray to adopt some other boys for him when he was growing up. Touch football in the back yard (the only form in which he could tollerate the sport), arguing over who's favorite baseball team was the best, even just sitting around discussing action movies with Peter, who had rapidly become something closer to a best friend and a brother. And his niece, Claire, freed from the obligations and issues of her own ability, had become a normal teenager. She'd taken up cheerleading again, though had to be much more careful – any fatal wound now, and she wouldn't simply regenerate. And Gabriel enjoyed being the doting uncle. You'd hardly know that her adopted father, Noah Bennet, had been trying to kill him and Elle on the day of the eclipse that changed their lives – again – and for the better. Now he and Gabriel got along fairly well, given their past. So yes, he was very thankful for his extended family. Without any of them, this new life wouldn't be as perfect as it was, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

_*Ding Dong!*_

Speaking of his extended family, it sounded as if some of it was here. He excused himself from helping his mom in the kitchen and went to answer the door. A quick glance into the living room told him that the sewing kit was still sitting there, innocuous and closed. Perhaps he'd exorcised whatever subconscious ghosts were haunting him by realizing how lucky he was to have what he had now. Smiling, he answered the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer and Summary, see first chapter._

_Author's Notes: Spelling errors have been corrected. Updating early because I'm sitting in class and bored. :P One chapter left after this, then the story's finished! Please continue to read and review. :)_

**CHAPTER 3**

"Gabriel!" Peter laughed and hugged his brother, the first one through the door as the Petrellis entered the house. "God, it's been months!" Since Angela's birthday, actually.

Gabriel laughed and squeezed Peter tightly, followed by Nathan, and finally Angela, giving his biological mother a lingering hug. "Hey, mom." He called them both "mom." It was too confusing to do anything else. And he loved them both, equally.

"Oh, Gabriel."She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and smiled. "I love what the two of you have done with the house!"

Gabriel smiled. Two years since they'd purchased the old Bennet home in Costa Verde, California, and they really had made it their own. "Thanks, mom. Come on in! Relax! The parade's on the TV." He watched his family go into the living room and listened to them greeting Elle. He laughed quietly at an overheard joke, then turned to go into the kitchen to help his mom with the cooking – and froze the moment he entered the room.

"Gabriel..." Virginia Gray was standing in the center of the kitchen, the silver sewing scissors from the sewing kit in the living room sticking out of her chest. Her face was frozen in an expression of horror and shock, and when her lips moved, his name was the barest breath that came from them. He could smell the blood, see it, pouring from the wound, down her chest...

Gabriel's mouth moved, but no sound came out. He tried to scream "mom!" but he could barely breathe. He stumbled back and nearly tripped over the cord to the smaller TV that Elle had been watching earlier. "I-I...." He stuttered, looking down to see what he tripped over, half expecting it to be a body. And when he looked back up...

Virginia – a perfectly normal, UN-INJURED, Virginia, was looking at him worriedly from where she stood in the center of the kitchen, a platter of stuffing in her hands, fresh out of the oven. "Gabriel? What's wrong, dear?"

Gabriel's heart was still pounding. He didn't feel asleep, didn't feel like he'd imagined that. It was DAMN real. Scarily real... But there she was, and she was fine. "Nothing... Nothing, mom. I'm alright." What WAS that? His other... visions... whatever they were, weren't that strong. That was unmistakable. He not only saw it, he smelled it, he heard it. It WAS real... But it also wasn't.

Virginia looked at her son worriedly, putting down the pan of stuffing to hug him. "Sweetheart, are you feeling alright? Maybe you should go lie down until dinner."

He hugged his mother tightly, his eyes closed, inhaling her scent, un-marred by the sickening scent of blood. "Yeah... I think that's probably a good idea." He kissed his mother's cheek, went into the living room to excuse himself from the rest of the family, claiming a headache, then headed into the bedroom – in the doorway, though, he froze.

Laid out on the bed, flat on her back, was Elle. Her eyes were open and staring, her mouth open in an "O,"a silent scream. Across her forehead was an unmistakable Sylar-style slash, all the way across her forehead, and deep into the brain. The blood had dried, running down her lifeless face.

Gabriel gagged on his own bile and staggered back, bumping into the hall wall across from the bedroom door, one hand over his mouth and the other on his stomach. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be possible... But, again, he could smell the blood. The blood laced with that special tang that indicated brain tissue... Elle's blood. Elle's brain. No... He stumbled forward, grabbing the doorway – and the bed was empty, unmade, as he'd left it this morning. No Elle, alive or dead... Of course no Elle. He'd just left her in the living room. "What the hell is wrong with me..."

He slowly entered the bedroom, carefully looking around at everything, making sure there were no more grisly, nasty surprises lurking in chairs or on the floor. He crawled onto the bed and pressed his face into Elle's pillow, breathing in her scent, before rolling onto his back on his own side of the bed. "What's happening to me?" he whispered to the room itself. He felt exhausted, but his brain wouldn't stop whirring. Why was he seeing these horrific things?! Not just the people he'd killed as Sylar. But people who were alive – who were in his life NOW, dead, and in Elle's case, at least, obviously by HIS hand. He continued considering anything he could think of that might be causing this, until his exhausted body gave out, and he drifted into a deep sleep.

Their faces flashed before him. Brian Davis, his skull smashed in with a chunk of quartz. Trevor Zeitlan, James Walker, Charlie Andrews, Zane Taylor, Dale Smither, Isaac Mendez, Ted Sprague, Bob Bishop, Bridget Bailey, and Jesse Murphy, all with their skulls sliced open and their brains removed like opening a can of spaghettios. He could feel their brain tissue beneath his fingers, hear their dying screams, feel them struggling against his telekinesis, futilely as he killed them. As he took pleasure from it, along with their abilities. He was like a God, and these were his sacrifices. And with each sacrifice, he grew stronger, more formidable, more unstoppable...

"Gabriel?"

Elle's face flashed into his mind. His angel. His precious girl, carrying their baby... and he felt sick as he sliced her skull open, listening to her scream. She trusted him, how could he.... How could she? She'd lied to him. She made it... it had to happen. It was the only way to save her from him, from monsters, the others, like him, who would hurt her. Had to save her – she wasn't safe with him. She'd be safe in death, he had to do it. He felt sand beneath his knees and hand, felt the heat of a funeral pyre. Felt the tear slide down his cheek... Elle. His angel...

"Gabriel??!"

Something was shaking him. He snapped awake with a gasp, jerking back away from his wife and slamming his head into the headboard above their bed.

Elle winced. "Oh, baby!" She reached out and ran her hand over the back of his head, gently rubbing where she felt a bump forming. "You were making noises in your sleep." She kissed his forehead gently. "Dinner's ready. We're all waiting for you."

It was all a nightmare. Everything. A nightmare brought on by guilt over what he'd done as Sylar. And the halucinations were just his over exhaustion, after having spent the last six months sleeping as little as possible, to make sure his wife had everything she needed... Just a nightmare. Just a halucination. That was real. The family he could hear, laughing in the other room. The woman... the beautiful, wonderful woman in front of him who had fallen in love with him, and loved him in spite of his being a monster. In spite of his killing her father... SHE was real. This is reality. He earned his paradise.

Gabriel Gray smiled and kissed his wife. "It's just a bump. I'll be fine." He got up, hugged her tightly, and grinned. "Let's go have that big, family dinner we wanted."

Elle smiled happily and kissed him, then slipped her arm around his waist as he put his around her shoulder. Together, they headed into the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer & Summary - see first chapter._

_Author's Notes: This is it, the end of the story! Enjoy, everyone! :) Please remember to review, if you want. :D_

**CHAPTER 4**

Gabriel and his bride paused in the dining room doorway, considering the table with both of it's wings pulled out for extra space, and the people gathered around it. Their family. Nathan and Peter, beside each other at one end of the table, an empty seat to Peter's right, at the end of the table, and across the table from him – their seats. Across from Nathan sat their mother, and beside her Noah Bennet. Across from Noah sat his daughter, and beside her, next to where Elle would sit, was Virginia Gray. The table was laid out with all the delicious food that Elle had spent the last two days cooking.

There was green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, several different kinds of pies, vegetables of every shape and size... and then, at the end of the table where Gabriel moved to sit down, was the turkey. Far from the naked looking creature that Elle had dropped on the floor that morning, it was now a golden brown, brilliant bird, juicy and perfect.

Peter grinned. "Hey, sleepyhead. It's about time you got up!"

Nathan smirked. "We were beginning to worry that I'd have to carve the bird."

Gabriel smirked back at his brothers. "My house, my bird, I'm going to do the carving." He took his seat at the head of the table and picked up the carving knife and fork, standing up as Elle took her seat beside him. "First though, in the spirit of the holiday, I'd like to say something."

He looked from each member of his family to the next. "At the chance of sounding trite... I think I'm the luckiest man on the face of the earth. I have two amazing moms, two great brothers... a wife that I love more than life itself... I have a wonderful niece, and great friends." His eyes met those of each of his family as he spoke. This really was a paradise – this place that he ended up. These people were more than family, they were his entire world. He couldn't imagine living without them. "I'm thankful for each and every one of you. I love you all." He smiled at the "here here!" and ovation that rose up from his family, then he grinned and raised the knife. "And now, the moment we've all been waiting for!" He lowered the knife to cut the bird.

From the moment, the knife touched it's skin, the bird began to bleed. A long slit appeared even where the knife hadn't touched. Gabriel stiffened and took a step back from the chair, almost tripping over it on the way. "No... no!"

Peter blinked at him. "Gabriel? What's wrong?" But somehow, Peter didn't look like... himself, anymore. His face was twisted in fury, and over the words he heard so clearly, there were other words... Yet still Peter's voice. An angry, furious, cynical Peter. "You monster! You killed my brother!"

Gabriel felt sick and his eyes shifted to Nathan. "Nathan, don't you-" he cut himself off and almost gagged. Nathan's head was lolling back in his chair, his throat cut so deep it had almost severed his spine. Blood was pooling and dried over the entire front of his dress suit. "No! Nathan, I..."

He did trip over the chair now, and fell backward. He was vaguely aware of the others standing up from their chairs – but suddenly it was their normalcy that seemed to be the illusion. He scrambled to his feet, chanting "No, no no no no...." But what he saw was FAR too real. Virginia Gray, dead in her chair, the scissors sticking out of her chest. That's what he did that night... what he thought she had forgiven him for – he killed her. He killed her! Angela Petrelli looking at him with a horribly sad, disappointed, and furious expression... Clare glaring at him with absolute hatered in her eyes. Noah looking at him as if he was a dangerous bug that needed to be squashed... And Elle. His precious angel. His beloved wife... she was dead where she sat, her head sliced deep, just as he'd seen it in the vision on the bed...

Gabriel Gray was crying, running into things in his desperation to run from the truth. He slammed into the wall beside the dining room door, then pushed through it, skidding to a stop when confronted by his mother's dead body, lying in a pool of her own blood by the sewing kit. He screamed, turned, and ran to the hall.

"You're a disgusting monster, Sylar! You'll always be a monster!" Claire's voice followed him from the dining room.

"No! NO!" He kept running through the house that, only moments ago, had seemed like paradise. Now it was a nightmare. Nathan's bloody corpse in the chair. Elle's body on a beach in the bedroom. And the hate radiating from the living members of his "family," thick enough that he could taste it, along with the sickening tang of blood in the air, was a presence in and of itself, chasing him through the house that, around him, was going back to the way it had been when it was the Bennet's.

Chased by the nightmares that some part of his brain knew were real, he screamed as he crashed through the front door and out into the California night. The voices still followed him, the images of his dead family burned into his eyes. "NO!! NOOOOOOOO!!!" He felt it building within him before he could even think – Induced Radioactivity. He'd lost that ability to the Shanti Virus, but somehow... to break out of this false reality, this... this false paradise... he'd managed to regain it. And as he cried, screamed, and raged, the glow built up.

When the explosion came, there was nothing left for miles in any direction.

* * * *

"-against their wishes. Dont' you think, Nathan?" Angela's voice cut through the haze of Sylar's jumbled thoughts. He didn't know where he was – the last thing he remembered made no sense... a paradise. A perfect world.. Where was he now? Was this another illusion?

"Nathan?"

He stiffened and his eyes cleared. He found himself looking into a mirror, and the face staring back at him – was Nathan Petrelli. But somehow he knew, this... THIS was real. The rest of the memories came flooding back, including things he had to have heard while unconscious. Parkman's voice... "You are no longer Sylar. No longer Gabriel Gray..." Angela talking to him... A funeral pyre... How long was he trapped within Nathan's life? How long had it been?

Angela touched his shoulder; the gentle, loving, worried touch of a mother for her son. "Nathan, are you alright?"

Sylar closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath with Nathan's lungs. Parkman hadn't been able to remove him. Instead, he'd trapped him somewhere that Sylar would be happy... And as the serial killer came to the decision that every one who did this to him would have to pay, he also had a profound realization as he pulled away from the last loving touch of a mother he would ever know.

He'd pulled himself out of paradise. For the rest of his existance, he'd be in hell.

"I'm fine, mom. Everything's fine, now."

Somewhere, deep inside Sylar, a boy named Gabriel cried.

**THE END**


End file.
